


Frost on the Edges

by Pandasushiroll



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Peter Pan & Related Fandoms
Genre: Boys Kissing, Face-Fucking, Felix is kinda sassy, Holding Hands, Holiday Kisses, Holiday Sweetness, Jealousy, Kissing Other People, Lost Hawk, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Years, One Shot, Oral Sex, Panlix - Freeform, Rufio gets excited, What even are these tags?, hands tied, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 06:52:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4597032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandasushiroll/pseuds/Pandasushiroll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Curly's in the hospital, Peter's jealous, and Felix is majorly confused. All this on New Year's Eve, could their holiday get any more complicated? Ah but, that's nothing new with the Lost Boys. Modern AU, fluff, smut. Bit of Lost Hawk. </p>
<p>In which holiday silliness ensues, panlix smut happens, and confusion abounds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frost on the Edges

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! It's been awhile! So this is the first installment in a series of little Holiday One-Shots with the Losties. It's a bunch of silliness in the modern world and lots of sex. So sit back relax and enjoy! It's like Christmas in July! Except it's New Year's and it's in August.
> 
> Big thanks to Sporklift for looking this over for me! She's a precious giraffe, seriously. <3

“Do we _have_ to go?” Peter’s whines aren’t muffled by the thick scarf he’s got drawn tightly over his pouty little mouth. He gives him this pitiful, withering look—like the winter is killing him—and Felix doesn’t need to see it to tell his mouth is turned down.

“You _know_ we have to. Why do you keep asking me that? The answer’s been the same the past five times.” Felix says, clearly untroubled by the excessive cold like Peter is.

Some have argued he might be part mammoth, just by looking at his sheer size and that mass of wiry mess of waves on top of his head. He’s just had his hair cut despite the cold weather, and now his usual long knots have turned to well styled half curls, sticking close to his head and making him look much more youthful. Pale, golden haired, and gray eyed. Felix really fits into the winter landscape, Peter notes to himself as he watches the tall boy side step a rather dodgy looking patch of slush.

“Mind your steps.” He says easily, just as Peter hops over a frozen puddle.

He makes a show of nearly stumbling just to see the worried look on Felix’s face. His arms outstretch instantaneously, hooking under Peter’s armpits to help keep him steady. His reflex is truly a beautiful thing. Always there as a steadying hand, nurturing as he is. Peter can’t understand why he sticks around to take this playful abuse, but he delights in it all the same.

Felix’s scowl is even more adorable than his smile. Feeling satisfied with himself, Peter grins as the taller boy says, “What did I just say?”

“I know what you said.” Peter teases, letting Felix set him upright. As soon as he’s straightened he curls a hand under Felix’s elbow, and chuckles at the way Felix’s hanging arm immediately folds to accommodate him. They’re walking with their arms linked now, presumably so Peter has less of a chance of falling over. “But you know I always do things my way.”

He can feel Felix rolling his eyes as he huffs, almost sounding offended. “Yeah well your way has you stumbling around and falling on your ass.”

Peter regards him a moment and laughs, feeling giddy as they make their way through the powdery snow toward the hospital. “No, my way is just way more fun and contains unforeseen circumstances. Besides, I know you’ll always catch me.”

“So it’s a test then?” Felix sighs dramatically, as if Peter had just told him to throw a lasso around the moon to pull it down for him.

Peter appreciates the sentiment, cause he knows Felix would do it in a heartbeat. “Maybe. Worried?”

“I’m used to it by now.”

A wind picks up, effectively shooting down the remark Peter had been about to use. He still wasn’t used to the wretched cold of the East Coast. Felix had moved up and down the east coast his entire life, switching between the cold winters of Connecticut and Maine for ten years, and now at nearly twenty he’d developed a thicker skin. Whereas Peter, whose skin was about as thin as a whore’s panties, was much more accustomed to the dry heat of Arizona—at least, he’d gotten used to it in the past six years. Then they’d up and moved to _Maine_ of all places.

He shivers, despite his iron resolve not to.

This part of Maine --where one of the boys took a nose dive off a four wheeler--is particularly cold, especially when you got closer to the shoreline, which is where the hospital is located.

They haven’t been walking too long, but it feels like forever his fingers are so stiff, numbed by the cold. It’s supposed to be a short walk from the parking lot to the hospital, but this frigid wind, that kicks up any time Peter lets down his guard, makes the walk feel like a thousand miles. It stretches on for ages. So Peter bemoans the cold, as they continue in their shared moderately fast stride, as if they’ve had to actually trudge through it for hours.

Felix elects to ignore him, mostly, they’ll be inside soon enough and then Peter will switch from mildly irritating to amused. Once they cross the threshold into the smoldering heat of the building, Felix detangles their arms to shrug off his heavy coat and to pull the fingerless gloves from his fingers.

“How can you stand to wear those things?” Peter muses as he tucks his gloveless hands into his pockets, keeping warm while it lasts. They shouldn’t be here too long, and he’s counting on the building to make him profusely warm before they have to brave the cold again. “They don’t even keep all of your hands warm. It’s dumb.”

“They keep enough warm.” Felix says, folding his coat over his left arm so he can offer Peter his right, the boy grins and loops his own arm through the offered triangle. “And besides, we wouldn’t be here if not for you.”

“This isn’t _my_ fault.” But the look Felix gives him says he plainly disagrees.

How did they end up visiting a hospital on the eve of the New Year’s holiday?

It’s mostly a result of stupidity. Mixed with alcohol Peter snagged from his father’s “locked” cupboard and a group of rowdy boys. 

///

Hospitals were always far too clean for Peter’s taste. Bland and starch white. Like a shirt that had been bleached too many times. The total absence of color and dirt made him sick—nauseated. It was as if hospitals sucked the life out of everything. It was such stark contrast to a funeral. Something that celebrated life and facilitated mourning. Peter preferred funerals. At least those had arrays of colors in the flower arrangements, and the deep brown of wood to liven things up. So to speak.

The irony was not lost on him.

///

“You guys really didn’t have to come you know. I’m perfectly fine by myself.” It’s a lie. He looks absolutely over the moon to see the two of them, shuffling about the room like idiots.

Peter sniggers, reaches over, and tugs on one of the soft ringlets sprouting out from his skull. “Shaddup.” He says playfully, Curly smiles at him and the expression is so genuine it should really make Peter feel sick, but it doesn’t. Maybe it’s the commercialized holiday season talking. Or the multiple glasses of champagne.

Felix is much more delicate in his touch as he reaches out, and curls a hand around the nape of his neck. “We’re glad you’re feeling better.”

There’s a flash of jealousy in the green of Peter’s eye. He can’t let that casual touch pass. It might be petulant, but he can’t find it in himself to care. The movement is impulsive, thoughtless, and one hundred percent worth it.

Curly blinks, his eyes green and blue and clouding with confusion as Peter’s fingers tangle in his hair, grip just a bit too tight. Reeling the surprised boy in, Peter turns his head to bring their mouths together in one smooth movement. Taking both Curly and (hilariously) Felix by horrified surprise. The taller boy frowns instantly, the boy under his lips gasping in surprise.

With his mouth open and Felix sulking so blatantly, Peter can’t resist pushing the limits just a bit more. He laps into the poor boy’s mouth, nipping at his bottom lip once, before pulling back with a grin so smug he could hear Felix scoff in the background.

“Happy New Years,” He says, kissing the tip of the boy’s nose before standing up right.

To his credit, Curly recovers enough to stutter out a thank you. Before he turns his wide eyed two colored gaze onto Felix, who looks far less amused. He’s scowling and Peter’s eyebrows have reached a new height of entertainment.

At that moment, two more boys walk through the door, toting get well cards and a bucket of food, filled to the brim with fruits, a boxed salad, and a few rolls of bread. Slightly cradles the bucket in his right arm as he narrowly runs into Peter in his hurry to get to Curly’s bedside. He immediately comments on Curly’s red face. To which the boy sputters a few times before coming up with a reasonable excuse. Rufio opts to saunter over to Felix’s side, despite the seething irritation rolling off of him.

Peter is still much too busy gloating, so the tallest boy makes an executive decision.

“Rufus.” He says plainly, without ceremony or style.

Rufio looks mildly confused at the formal address, but turns his head with an eyebrow quirked. “Yeah?”

That, apparently, is all the confirmation Felix needed, because he tosses his coat onto the end of Curly’s bed, immediately turning to the other boy to catch his face. He gets out a surprised gasp before Felix’s mouth closes over his.

Peter’s instant response is to crinkle his nose like the sight before him is giving off a foul stench, but he soon recovers enough to verbalize his protest. “Felix.”

Felix doesn’t listen. In fact, Peter is fairly sure he catches a flash of pink tongue as he laps against Rufio’s mouth. It might be surprise or just a natural response, but the boy actually had the balls to _open his mouth_.

Thoroughly put off, and feeling insanely territorial, Peter sets himself up to stomp over and pry the two apart, but then, as if things couldn’t get worse, Rufio _moans_ like he’s enjoying it. The blood drains from Peter’s head.

Felix is kissing Rufio, right in front of him. With his mouth open, and tongue. Mouth open and tongue. And Rufio is kissing back. With open mouth and tongue. Open mouth. And tongue. With Felix. He suddenly becomes aware of the amount of anger that flares up in his body, blood hot, fists tight. He’s tense as he watches Felix pull away, licking his lips like he’s just tasted something delicious.

///

“You started it.” He says once they’re back in the car.

“And just _how_ pray tell, did I start it?” Felix cranks the heater to maximum, pivoting all the air vents so they’re all pointing at different angles but all in the direction of Peter’s body.

“You were touching him.” It’s obvious to Peter that clearly Felix is the one in the wrong here, but Felix doesn’t seem to be grasping that concept as quickly.

“I was…What? Seriously?” Felix asks as if he has no idea he isn’t allowed to touch other people.

Peter just gives him a look that clearly tells him he’s an idiot. The tall boy considers this, pushing his head back into the thin cushion of the headrest, as if he could press the answers into his head somehow. Fingers tightly gripping the steering wheel like it’s his lifeline.

A brief silence settles over them, the atmosphere in the car stilted and awkward. Peter’s got his arms crossed, beyond annoyed that their visit hadn’t gone as smoothly as he’d hoped it would. He’d much rather be snogging Felix senseless and having sex in the back seat. But Felix has made that impossible with his thoughtlessness.

“I never get used to how jealous you can be.” He says after a long while.

“Excuse me? _Jealous?”_ Peter counters, shifting forward in his seat as if it were suddenly lava. “Did you forget who you’re talking to? I don’t _get_ jealous. There was nothing to be jealous of. It was just Rufio.”

“And tongue.” Felix points out, apparently feeling the need to be a total asshole.

Peter’s scowl could rival that of the forever drooping face of his fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Bumbrake. “Rubbing it in? Is there something I should know about you and Rufus?”

Felix shrugs, as if he has a secret that he has no plans of sharing. He’s being a real prick, and Peter is not finding it amusing in the least.

The drive feels several times longer in silence, but Peter can’t find it within himself to start up a conversation. How could Felix be so ambivalent about kissing _Rufio_ of all people? And since _when_ did Rufio apparently enjoy kissing Felix so much? Probably as much as Felix enjoys being an asshole who goes around kissing people. (Peter’s own stray kiss felt justifiable: no tongue, no wrong-doing. Tongue definitely equalled wrong-doing. Felix was clearly in the wrong here.

As they're turning onto their street Felix says, "It didn't mean anything."

"And?" He can't think that's all he has to say to be forgiven.

"And...that's it. It meant nothing. You were the one getting all worked up. Plus _you_ kissed Curly first."

"Oh _please,_ Felix. You know I was just doing my civil duty as a roommate and making Curtis feel the holiday spirit.”

“Aren’t you against New Years?”

“No. I’m against America’s commercialized version of Christmas. New Years is fine. It’s like another St.Patrick’s Day but without all the silly costumes.”

“Isn’t green your favorite color?”

“ **Anyway** , aren't you always nagging me about being inconsiderate by not participating in the holidays? That I have no spirit or some such nonsense? He looked sad and lonely, I thought a friendly kiss would cheer him up. My motives were pure. _Yours,_ however, were significantly less than pure. Selfish even."

"Curtis does not need any help getting into the spirit. He _invented_ the holiday spirit."

Peter rolls his eyes as the car rolls to a stop in their driveway. "Excuses, excuses. You’re still in the wrong here, Felix.”

///

Peter realizes several minutes after they've settled back in with the boys (Nibs, Tootles, Ethan, and Jeremy) that he _might_ be in the wrong here. But that is a very slight and unlikely possibility. He just isn’t wrong. It doesn’t happen. Ever.

_Well..._

Maybe sometimes. But if you stacked up the amount of times Peter has been wrong to the amount of times he’s been right, you might be totally unsurprised to find the stacks utterly uneven--in his favor. The good news is; Felix seems to understand this and doesn’t argue. He never does. Not when it comes to Peter and Peter being wrong--which he never is.

The boys are watching some movie called Atlantis. Peter wants to sneer at the idea of an underwater kingdom--because seriously, who wants to spend their entire life underwater?--but the boys look fully enraptured and he doesn’t feel the need to burst their precious little bubbles tonight. He’s got all the time in the world for that task next week. Besides, enough unforeseen drama has already occurred. Peter eyes Felix in his peripheral. The boy is hovering by the right arm of the couch, where Peter has inconsiderately squished himself in beside Nibs.

Nibs, for the most part, doesn’t look concerned. He whined a moment ago but he seems over the discomfort now and is fully focused on the animated adventure unfolding before him. Will they make it? What does Atlantis look like? He’s always been into stuff like that. Ever since he was small. Or at least that’s what Tootles says. They’ve been sharing a room since they were in grade school.

“How’s Curly doin’?” Comes the question over Nibs’ head. Ethan swivels his own tiny head to blink over his brother’s shoulder. He’s chosen to wear his glasses today. Which is great because it helps Peter tell him and his brother them apart. His other half, Jeremy, keeps his eyes glued to the television. “How’d the visit go?”

Tootles droops forward so he can peer around Nibs, whose busy shushing Tootles and nudging Jeremy with his foot, for an answer. Jeremy takes a moment to glower over his shoulder at the three on the couch.

“He’s good,” Felix utters at the same moment Peter snorts. They pause, feeling oddly out of sync. Felix glances at him warily, “The visit was fine.”

Peter hates when they get like this. It always happens after a fight--or something that offsets their usual rhythm (like the flu, or Felix going on one of his play dates with the other boys for too long, or when Felix gets the bright idea to drink Everclear). Peter’s games are a frequent source of their problems too (though he’s loathe to admit it), and today is no different. But to be fair, Felix kissed Rufio with open mouth and tongue. So he feels totally justified in the way his annoyances coils up in his stomach, which tightens when Felix’s face goes blank.

The image of his stray kiss is burned onto the back of his eyelids, the pleased moan from the other boy’s mouth echoing around in his skull like a far off shout. It’s like a ricochet bullet, bouncing around and dinging off the sides of his skull over, and over, and over again. It’s far away and yet pressed right up against him at once.

The result is a frown set deep on his mouth and extremely hard to miss. Felix sees it and immediately shuffles his feet.

Peter sees the uncomfortable motion and sighs, exasperated. He can’t take it when Felix gets restless. He’s supposed to be the giraffe like person that hardly moves except to crane his long neck around. So he stands, pushing himself up with a hand on Nibs and the other on the arm of the couch. Nibs makes some vaguely offended noise, but remains steady for Peter as he stands. Felix stiffens, keen gray eyes watching Peter as he lifts his arms above his head and stretches like he’s been seated for hours. He holds this for a few seconds, silently reveling in the way Felix’s eyes rove over him--capturing every detail-- before he lets his arms drop, hands slapping his thighs quietly.

“Goin’ to bed?” Tootles asks, leaning back as Nibs leans forward to scratch at the back of Jeremy’s head. The little boy sighs happily, slumping backward onto the older boy’s legs.

“Something like that,” Peter chirps, smirking at Felix as he pads passed him to get to their bedroom. Might as well get the make up sequence over with.

Their house isn’t big enough for each of them to have their own room. Which means most everyone has a roommate and most everyone shares everything. Most of the house was okay with this, but some--namely Peter often felt as if “they” were entitled to each of their own things.

Originally the pairs of roommates had been something like;

Slightly and Rufio

Felix and Curly

The Twins

Tootles and Nibs

and Peter by his lonesome.

Then Peter walked in on Felix in the shower and they’d all shifted around by necessity. Apparently all that needed to happen was Peter seeing Felix naked. Either way the new arrangement worked out much better:

Peter and Felix

The Twins

Slightly and Curly

Nibs and Tootles

and Rufio on his own.

Now Peter was retreating back into their shared room, and Felix feels torn between waiting out his fit or trailing after to beg his forgiveness on the spot. After a few moments of deliberation, the choice is obvious.

///

“Come to beg my forgiveness?” Peter’s down to a plain sweater--one of Felix’s--and one pair of skinny jeans. Really tight skinny jeans. Felix can tell the sweater is his by the flat black and gray color. Peter is always stealing his clothes. Something about needing them for layering up to keep warm. Most of the time declarations like that are made underneath a scarf, so Felix has a hard time telling some of Peter’s justifications apart from bullshit excuses to wear his clothes. If Felix were a more bold, he might point out to Peter that he would happily lend him anything he wanted. He always took pride in the idea that Peter liked his scent so much that he wanted to be surrounded by it on a constant basis.

But, back to the present, Felix doesn’t like when Peter is upset with him. Or upset in general. He frets over it constantly, and is usually distracted until the problem is rectified. It nags at him like a gnat buzzing around his head until he swats it with a magazine.

“Something like that.” he parrots Peter’s words with a total lack of style.

Peter’s standing in front of the closet door, tossing all his outerwear onto the closet floor like it belongs there. Felix sheds his coat and tosses it onto the nearest flatish surface, which happens to be the bean bag to the left of the door. Peter’s smirk returns, and Felix finds himself padding toward the smaller boy, eyes raking down his body once, then flitting back up to meet his green eyes.

“What’s the plan?”

“I thought being on my knees would be a good place to start.” Peter laughs, full and outright, the glee shining bright in his eyes. “That’s a start.”

Once he’s within arm’s reach, Felix falls to his knees. Peter cocks his head to the side as spidery digits fold over his belt, pulling leather through metal, tugging until the metal needle is free and the leather can be moved. With the belt open the fingers move to push the metal button of Peter’s jeans through denim stitching, the zip falling down next. With his fly undone, Felix can lean forward and nuzzle the cotton clad prick underneath. He nuzzles with his palms flat against Peter’s thighs, spreading his fingers wide, as he presses a kiss to the semi hard cock still hidden from his view.

“This doesn’t feel too much like an apology.”

Peter has always been impatient. It was one of the first things Felix learned about him. The second was that he adored playing mind games.

“Just wait for it. It’s coming.”

Felix doesn’t have to look up to know Peter’s eyebrow is raised. “Oh? Will it be coming in the next few minutes? Or should I hibernate through the winter to pass the time?”

Felix answers with a gentle nip to the still soft head of Peter’s prick, which pulls a gasp from boy. It’s almost as though he’s surprised, but the way he fits his hands over Felix’s shoulders says he’s been expecting this.

He mouths at Peter through the cotton, lips closing over the rapidly hardening length underneath. He likes starting things slow, working Peter up till he gets snappy and starts barking out orders. He takes his time, opening his mouth and sucking at the boy, laving over the soft material. The outline of the boy’s prick clear against the dark spot of spit that only grows and grows until. Prick rock hard and rubbed to hypersensitivity by the friction of cotton on skin--finally Peter hisses, “I’m not going to get much harder than this, Felix. What are you waiting for?”

His only response is a deep purr in the back of Felix's throat as he drags his tongue slowly along the length of his prick, storm cloud eyes peeking up at him through thin lashes.

_"God, Felix, you are **really** trying my patience." _

Another hum as he nuzzles against his crotch like it's a Sunday evening fire keeping him warm. He's getting rubbed raw and he's dangerously close to begging. _"Felix Just take it the fuck out--"_

Felix chuckles, and how he can afford to be so smug is beyond Peter. The boy growls, tightening his fingers in the taller boy's hair and pulling the curls so taut they go straight. He can feel the skin of Felix's scalp pulling away from his skull.

"You're really grumpy today aren't you?" The boy has the nerve to say. But he's if he really pushes it knows he can make Peter beg. He's right on the cusp, so close to breaking he can taste it.

The look in Peter’s eye tells him that today isn’t the day to make him beg. Perhaps tomorrow or even the next day. But with his pride wounded and the awkwardness with the other boys perhaps...he’d better focus on nursing the boy back to his former glory. So he smiles, wide and mischievous, and finally pulls Peter’s cock free.

Peter sighs, like he’s just started breathing again. He sucks him in, lips forming around the bulk of his head, sliding down the shaft with practiced ease. Peter relaxes underneath him, leaning back till he can put his weight on the wall behind him. It occurs to Felix that perhaps he should’ve had Peter sit down first, but he isn’t complaining--and he gets the feeling if he stops now Peter will only snap at him.

He sucks him in further, and further, breathing deeply through his nose as he swallows, pushing the boy’s prick even further. Till it’s pressing up the back of his throat and Peter’s gasping out his name, coming off the wall to lean over him. His fingers ease up briefly, cradling Felix’s head as he reaches home. And before he can stop himself he’s moaning lewdly above Felix’s ear, keening at the sheer show of greed the boy is taking in his cock with.

_“Felix.”_

Felix swallows, hollowing his cheeks immediately afterward. He backs off as Peter thrusts, losing control under the waves of pleasure washing over him. It feels like his bones are turning to jelly--nearly liquid. He’s warm all over, muscles relaxing and tensing at rapid intervals as his hips keep stuttering forward. There is absolutely no thought in this motions, no style, no finesse. Just the need to fuck and the need for Felix, and the need to put those two things together.

“Stop.” Peter groans out, just as Felix swivels his head to swirl his tongue around the shaft better. He’s got two fingers wrapped around the base, minutely squeezing to keep him from coming too fast. But he doesn’t stop. So Peter, well passed pretense and far too aroused to play games, pulls his hair. Hard enough to pop him right off his cock.

“Fucking christ.” He pants with Felix blinking up at him like he’s caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. “Get on your knees and turn around.”

Felix looks horribly amused as he does what’s asked of him. “Right here? We can’t even move to the bed first?”

“No. You’ve made that impossible.” Peter pouts, falling to his knees behind his lover, and reaching around his thin frame to get at his belt. Felix purrs, petting at his arms as he works his pants open.

“I’ve made it impossible to move less than a foot over?” He chuckles, helping Peter shimmy his pants and underwear down his legs.

“Yes. You have. You’re too good at sucking cock.”

“Why thank you. I’ve had lots of practice.” Felix has to shift his weight from one knee to the other so he can get the pants and underwear down the rest of his legs.

Peter pauses, the image of Rufio moaning flashing up in his mind. “Excuse me? With who?”

Felix’s head tilts, before he turns to look over his shoulder with an eyebrow raise. “Seriously? With **you.** "

Peter frowns, shoving at Felix’s back, settling back on his haunches and crossing his arms. “Anyone else?”

The taller boy’s brow furrows further in confusion. “Huh? Peter what are you--”

“You know I thought he enjoyed that kiss too much. You’ve been fucking him on the side, haven’t you? Did he seduce you behind my back? That little--”

Unfortunately, Peter often underestimates how fast a half naked, and abruptly annoyed Felix can move. The tall boy swings around to face him before it can fully register, and has a hold on Peter’s cheeks. Its the type of punishment one would normally give a child. Felix pulls, stretching Peter’s cheeks apart to an absurd and frankly, hilarious degree.

“Don’t be stupid. How could you think I’d ever sleep with anyone else?” Peter might have the chance to answer if Felix lets his face go. “Don’t answer that. What’s important, _you nimrod,_ is that I’m with you. And only you. If you weren’t jealous of everyone that comes in contact with me you’d realize that I don’t want anyone else.”

Peter rubs his cheeks when Felix lets him go, nose crinkling at the kiss he presses to his forehead afterward.

“Now,” Felix says with an air of bossiness he only uses on the younger boys, “Get over here and fuck me. I haven’t had you inside me for six whole hours.”

///

He’s got Felix’s wrists tied to the headboard with some of his scarves, with dark fabric that contrasts so perfectly against Felix’s nearly snow white skin. Cobalt blue cotton around his right wrist, myrtle green on his left, pulled just far enough apart that Felix’s body is stretched to lovely levels of tautness.

His flat stomach goes concave as Peter nips at his chest, trailing kisses down, up, sideways, in circles. Dragging his tongue in dizzying lines over each curve and jut of his frame. Felix gasps, as Peter catches the metal stud in his nipple, tugging on it until Felix keens, knees pressing into the boy’s sides.

He’s got three fingers in Felix already, and he grins around the stud in his mouth, pulling back just to hear Felix cry out.

Felix cries out Peter’s name and the sound is so delightful Peter nearly forgets his own arousal hard and pressing into his own stomach. “You want me to fuck you, Felix?”

“Yes. Please, Peter.”

“Do you need me to fuck you?”

_“Yes.”_

“You sure?”

**“Yes. Fuck me now.”**

Peter hums, the pitch high, and bites down harder around the fleshy nub around the stud. “Didn’t hear you say please.”

_“Please, Peter. Please, please, please. Please fuck me.”_  He says like he’s dying, like he’ll cease to exist if he doesn’t get Peter’s cock in him within the next few moments.Peter knows he’ll beg as long as he needs to.

Peter finds himself grinning again. “Alright. Relax, dirty boy. I’ll give you want you want.”

He pulls his fingers free, replacing them with his cock, and then he gives Felix exactly what he wants.

///

Thankfully, the two of them are so desperate that neither lasts long. They finish just in time to hear a rapid knocking on their door. It doesn’t open--presumably cause whoevers on the outside knows what a bad idea that would be.

Felix is the one who answers, as Peter unties his wrists “Yeah?”

It’s Tootles, “Um. The ball is supposed to drop in like five minutes.”

“Gotcha.” Felix sighs. letting his arms flop after both of them are freed. “You wanna sit out there with everyone?”

“Do we have to?”

“You know we do.” Felix chuckles, moving to sit up and begin the process of retrieving clothes. Peter watches the way his body moves as Felix trudges about the room.

“Yeah. I know. Just thought I’d ask.”

Felix tosses another one of his sweaters on the bed, a pair of underwear, and a pair of stitch pajama pants. Peter snickers at the bottoms as he pulls the sweater on. He considers forgoing the underwear, but then he recalls last year and all the pants-ings and decides against it. So he slips on the offered pair, and turns to toss the pajama bottoms on the floor.

Felix has this freaky ability to get dressed within a minute, and even though Peter knows it, he’s still surprised every time it happens.

“Peter?”

Peter hops from one foot from the other as he pulls on his pants. “Yep?”

“Do you like living here with all of us?”

Peter snorts, Felix is always asking him silly questions like this. “Yeah, why?”

Felix is leaning in the open doorway, making one of his serious sad faces. “Well it’s just...you’re always talking about going on adventures. You always talk about travelling and taking road trips, but we haven’t really had time for any of that. So I was just wondering...if you were ever planning on going solo. Cause if anyone could do it, it would definitely be you.”

He finally has the pajama pants all the way up, but pauses with his fingers gripping the waistband as if his pants will fall down at any moment. Felix’s is making one of his adult expressions. Which are always these grave or extremely depressing faces he makes when he’s been overthinking things and drawn conclusions for himself. The best way to handle it most of the time is to prank him, but he gets the feeling that this time, pranking won’t solve the problem.

Peter pokes at the slippers Felix has laid out for him by his feet with his toes--they’re modeled after the green Power Ranger--slipping them on after a moment’s deliberation. Then pads over to doorway and pulls on the hoodie Felix has thrown on until the tall boy is eye level with him.

“Don’t be stupid, Felix. You’re too clever for that. Adventure means nothing if my boys aren’t there to witness it with me.” He says, ruffling the boy’s hair and stepping passed him to get to the hallway.

Felix has, honestly, never heard Peter speak of him and the other boys that way, and it has him curious. But Peter is shouting out “Incoming!” and leaping onto the couch to squash Nibs into the thin cushions. The twins immediately seize the opportunity, and dog pile on top of Peter. Now Nibs is really and truly squashed on to bottom. It’ll be impossible to have a serious conversation with him now.

So instead, Felix smiles to himself and walks into the kitchen to help Tootles pour half glasses of grape and apple cider out for the rest of the boys.

“What’re you smilin’ about?” Tootles asks, but then regrets it and his entire face crinkles.“Unless it’s something gross. Then I don’t wanna know.”

Felix laughs, deposited each filled glass onto a tray to carry them out. “Nothing. Peter just told me one of his bad jokes.”

They’re finished now and Felix picks up the tray just as the tv announces the last minute of the year.

“Is it the one about the llamas? Or the monkey? Or is it the one about the clown and the baby goat?”

“Um. Neither.”

“Oh! It must’ve been the one about Nicole right?”

“Who the hell is Nicole?”

Peter hears the beginnings of one of his jokes, and immediately perks up. “Oh I got this.” He clears his throat. “Felix!”

 

“What?” He hands Ethan his special plastic cup.

“Knock knock.”

Felix rolls his eyes, handing the other twin his own plastic cup, “Who’s there?”

“Nicole,” He’s grinning gleefully, holding out his hand just as Felix reaches him.

Felix really doesn’t want to know who Nicole is, but he asks, “Nicole, who?” anyway. And hands Peter his glass.

“Nicole never bothered me anyway~” He sings to the tune of “Let it Go”. Felix could gag on the amount of cheese that was in that joke.

“You are incorrigible.” Felix shakes his head, handing Nibs his glass.

_“I am a genius.”_ Peter cackles to himself, putting his feet up on Nibs’ lap whether he likes it or not.

Now Felix snorts, before he sets the tray on the ground. “Uh-huh.”

Luckily they’re down to the last ten seconds.

“I _am!”_ Peters going into full on pout mode.

“Suuuure, you are, Peter.” And Felix really doesn't care.

“Nibs, tell Felix I’m a genius.”

“Felix, I’m a genius.” Nibs parrots incorrectly.

“Guuuuuys!” Tootles whines over the lip of his glass.

“Nibs! I said tell Felix that _I_ \--as in Peter-- _is a genius_.” Peter pinches Nibs’ arm just to hear the boy squeal and Felix is too busy grinning to save him.

“FIVE, FOUR,THREE…” The twins are shouting along with the television.

“Can’t we both be geniuses?” Nibs asks, slapping Peter’s hand away, and slumping in his seat. Felix moves to stand behind the couch.

“No! I’m the genius leader, not you.”

“Well that’s just rude.”

“TWO, ONE. YAY!” The twins high five before hugging each other tightly.

“It’s not my fault you’re not--” Then Felix catches Peter’s chin, and tilts it up, pressing his mouth firmly to his. And Peter is utterly consumed with ravaging Felix's mouth with his tongue alone.

Nibs glances at Tootles, who immediately looks scandalized. “What? _I’m_ not kissin’ you. Gross.” The two turn their attention to the door just as Rufio steps through. 

"Hey guys."

"Hey!" Nibs, Tootles, and the twins retort. Naturally, Peter and Felix are too busy plundering each other's mouths.

Rufio frowns, nose wrinkling at the sight. "Ew. Who let Peter and Felix on the couch? You know they aren't allowed to sit there at the same time. Someone seperate them."

" _I'm_ not touching them." Tootles announces.

"Nose goes!" Ethan shouts, instantly pressing a finger to his nose. His brother follows suit. Then Tootles, and finally Rufio.

"Aw maaaaaan." Nibs sighs.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you had fun reading cause I know I had fun writing. Please feel free to let me know what you think. Or if you have any suggestions for the next holiday feel free to leave one. Anyway, have a nice day!


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